


Rescue Mission

by ravenclawkohai



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Puppet Cloud Strife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13782129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawkohai/pseuds/ravenclawkohai
Summary: Prompt: “I will take back what’s rightly mine."In which Sephiroth rescues Cloud from two very different captors.Chapter 2 is a separate version, not a continuation.





	1. Chapter 1

               The WEAPONs were, arguably, one of the biggest pains in the ass Cloud had ever come across. They were, also arguably, significantly too dangerous to count as a “pain in the ass,” but as the scale of this disaster continued to balloon, Cloud found his view a little skewed.

               Any fight with a WEAPON was a massive undertaking. They were immense monsters that soaked up attacks like sponges and, even if they (so far) left victorious after each encounter, they tended to come away limping. Each time they defeated one, they hoped it was the last, and were none too pleased to be proved wrong again and again.

               The majority of them, they stumbled upon at inopportune moments. Ultimate, which seemed to refuse to die, was greeted by fervent cursing from Cid, whose only recourse was to slam into it with the Highwind; he then tended to grumble unendingly until repairs were done. After that initial encounter in Mideel, this was the only way it tended to attack them. Still, Ultimate wasn’t their only problem. Sapphire and Ruby had been problems in their own right. When Emerald turned up, cornering them in the plains of Wutai, most of the team had gone grim and settled in for a long fight; Cloud tossed his hands up, groaned, and said, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

               Yet when Ultimate decided it was done playing air-games and settled in for another battle on the barrens outside Midgar, Cloud wasn’t the only one frustrated. Cid, Barret, _and_ Tifa all cursed as they readied themselves. Vincent rolled his eyes. Yuffie let her head drop back and groaned. Cloud stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose before grabbing his sword.

               “Anyone else just _tired_ of these things?” he asked, settling the Buster Sword in front of him.

               Almost the entire team said, “ _Yes_.”

               It wasn’t long before they regretted their flippancy. They had grown accustomed to Ultimate fighting for a time and then fleeing. They had grown accustomed to air battles. They forgot just how close they had come to dying in that first fight outside Mideel and just how thankful they’d been that it had decided to leave. They remembered quickly.

               They were all bloodied. Most of them were favoring one leg or had an arm tucked close to their body that they wouldn’t use. Vincent was leaning heavily on a nearby boulder, only still in the fight by the ranged nature of his weapon. Nanaki, Yuffie, and Cid were unconscious. Tifa was firing off Cure after Cure, trying to keep them afloat. When the creature, wounded but in much better shape than they were, snatched Cloud out of the air and crushed him in one fist, it seemed clear which way the battle was going to go.

               “No,” Cloud hissed, straining against the grip with all his strength. “I refuse to die like a fairy tale damsel in distress.” He knew this was serious, he knew he very well might die, but the image of a dragon holding a princess in its grip while she cried out helplessly was stuck in his head. “What is all this SOLDIER strength _good for_?”

               Cloud was, for good reason, distracted. Most of them were—taking your eyes off an enemy like this was a quick way to die. Yet one by one, AVALANCHE stilled, turning to look over their shoulders at the new, oncoming force. Every single stomach sank. They were done for. Barret cursed, insisting that this was just kicking them while they were down.

               Still, even the WEAPON felt it when the entire battlefield came to a halt.

               With his attention finally drawn, Cloud let out a single, heartfelt, “ _Fuck_.”

               Sephiroth looked up at the WEAPON with the calm confidence he always had. He was entirely unfazed, even willingly turned his eyes from it.

               “Hello, Cloud,” he said, and Cloud still felt himself shiver. The smile hugging his lips, the leer in his eyes made something in Cloud curl. Flashes of images, of voices and sensations both distant and too close, what might have been strangulation or embrace, Reunion. His eyes flickered green, much to Sephiroth’s approval.

               No one else was in any state to notice, much less care.

               The moment passed and Ultimate roared, Cloud pulled away from Sephiroth by the sheer feeling of being crushed.

               “You have something that belongs to me,” Sephiroth told the WEAPON casually, approaching at a walk.

               Ultimate pulled itself up taller, winding up for a strike, only to find its quarry suddenly absent.

               “I’ll be taking back what’s rightly mine,” he said, voice low, either entirely for himself or for Cloud, who was the only other one to hear him.

               In the time Ultimate had moved to strike, Sephiroth had leapt up it, almost flying in his speed. He caught Cloud by the scruff of his shirt, but before the blond could ask what he was doing, he felt the crushing pressure give way. The fingers fell from the WEAPONs hand, neatly severed in one clean sword stroke. Looking between the hand and Sephiroth in blind confusion, he noticed that Masamune was now in his grip.

               “What— _urk!_ ” Cloud said, choking suddenly as Sephiroth pulled him up, the front of his turtleneck digging in. It was only for a moment before Sephiroth caught him around the waist, pulling them tightly together.

               “What—what are you doing!” he demanded, watching as Sephiroth deftly descended and began walking away as calmly as he had come.

               “Leaving,” he said, only crushing Cloud tighter against him when he began to struggle. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

               “You can’t just _leave_ , it’s still alive!”

               “So it is.”

               “Aren’t you going to kill it?”

               Sephiroth finally turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised.

               “Why should I?” he asked, and Cloud’s temper flared.

               “Everyone’s still back there! They’ll die if you don’t!”

               “I fail to see how that’s my problem.”

               Cloud faltered, remembering just who this was. Sephiroth had no reason to save AVALANCHE. It was probably more convenient if Ultimate finished the job for him.

               “I—I don’t—… please?”

               Something in Sephiroth’s eyes flashed, and a look of pure possessiveness crawled over his face as he came to a halt.

               “Now, that is a pleasure to hear from you,” he said, voice pitched low. Cloud couldn’t fight down the shiver that stole over him, but he swallowed down all of his misgivings. If anything, the look in Sephiroth’s eyes grew keener as Cloud rallied.

               “Please help them,” he said, and it was a fight to keep the anger out of his voice. The sheer helplessness of the situation—him, pressed tightly to Sephiroth’s side, pleading for the lives of his friends, now held entirely at the man’s mercy. His own inability to help wore on his temper.

               A smug smirk grew on Sephiroth’s lips, a fire in his eyes. He was loving every moment of this and made no attempt to hide it.

               “Surely you can be more convincing,” Sephiroth all but purred, watching Cloud with half-lidded eyes.

               It took longer than he would have liked. He took a breath and, carefully and purposefully, set aside his pride.

               He looked Sephiroth in the eye and said, “Please save them. For me.”

               The smirk snaked into a grin. He lifted his free hand and trailed his fingertips down Cloud’s jaw.

               “Oh, Cloud. There’s hope for you yet,” he said, voice deep and private.

               And then he kept walking.

               “Wait—what are you—!”

               “Hush, pet,” Sephiroth said, pressing the tip of two fingers between Cloud’s brow. He tightened their mental connection and brought every ounce of his will to bear, pressing and pressing and pressing, until Cloud slumped against his side, unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

               When Cloud fell into the Lifestream and came out, for lack of a better word, scrambled, none of them quite knew what to do. The _doctors_ didn’t know what to do, other than wait and pray, but that wasn’t really an option. Sephiroth was still at large _and_ he now had the Black Materia. Shinra was still doing whatever _it_ was doing, which likely meant nothing good. There was no one else doing anything about it—they _had_ to continue on. They left Tifa with Cloud, primarily because she dug her heels in and refused to consider anything else, and they visited when they could, but there was little else to be done. Tifa heard Cloud whisper any number of things to himself, some of which more concerning than others but none making much sense. She knew nothing good could be happening in his head, but there was nothing to be done about the matter.

               Until there _was_ something to be done about the matter.

               Tifa had no idea what was happening to Mideel, but she knew she had to get Cloud out of there. She grabbed his wheelchair and began to rush him to safety, going as quick as she could over the uneven ground. She heard the building behind her collapse. She heard the aborted scream of the doctor who had been inside. She heard as pieces of Mideel fell away, cracking and grumbling behind her. She heard the splash as she and Cloud fell into a cold brightness that melted away her senses.

               When she woke up, she was on her back. The ground beneath her was cold and hard and a rock dug into her hip, but before she was even done groaning herself awake, her hand was snatched. She opened her eyes, squinting at first in the brightness, but eventually her eyes focused in on a strange sight. Cloud was looking down at her, only it wasn’t _Cloud_. It looked like how he had as a child, with his wide, wide eyes and long, wild hair tied back. She was so surprised by the sight that, at first, she didn’t see the desperate, pleading look in his eyes.

               “Please,” he said, tugging on her hand. “You have to help.”

               “Cloud?” she asked, still trying to wrap her head around what was happening, as she sat up. “What’s happening?”

               “Please, hurry, you have to come. It’s only getting worse and I can’t stop it.”

               “Stop what?” she asked, letting the child pull her up by her hand.

               “ _Please_ , or it’ll be too late,” he said, turning those big, sad eyes on her, and she followed him. He ran as fast as he could, Tifa jogging to keep up with him as he yanked on her hand.

               Her eyes kept cutting between the child-Cloud, who looked just like how she remembered, and Nibelheim, which also looked just like how she remembered. Every brick and crack looked just right as he pulled her along through alleys and down abandoned streets that should have been bustling.

               “Where are we going, Cloud?” she asked, but he just shook his head, and pulled her further into the city.

               Eventually, they reached the main square, and Cloud pulled her to a halt. He looked up at her desperately, squeezed her hand, and said, “You have to help.”

               She understood why now.

               Where the water tower should have been stood the Cloud she remembered, still dressed in his SOLDIER uniform. Behind him stood Sephiroth, arms twisting around Cloud to hold him tight, head bent forward, mouth by his ear. Cloud was leaning back, trusting, letting Sephiroth support his weight. Where Sephiroth’s hand pressed down over his heart, Cloud’s hand rested over top, filling the gaps between Sephiroth’s splayed fingers, holding him in place. His eyes were glazed over, looking at nothing, and they matched Sephiroth’s, mako-green and cat-slitted. His head was tilted back and resting against Sephiroth’s chest, his throat bared in an unintentional show of trust. Sephiroth’s hair had fallen around them, curtaining them away from the world, leaving Cloud with only a view in front of him, should he even be inclined to focus his eyes.

               She stared, in awe and horror, entirely mute.

               The child-Cloud tugged her hand again, saying, “Please! I can’t stop him!” It was enough to break her out of her spell.

               It was clear now that this had been what was happening since the Northern Crater. Cloud may have slipped away from Sephiroth physically, riding the Lifestream and ocean down to Mideel, but he’d only been digging his way further into Cloud’s head. The mako-poisoning from the Lifestream left Cloud vulnerable and open, unable to escape from his head and therefore unable to escape Sephiroth. All of those strange, whispered words Tifa had caught were snippets of conversation, of Cloud answering aloud what Sephiroth had hissed into his mind. He had a captive audience, one who had already been under his sway. Who knew how much damage had been done?

               Tifa opened her mouth to interrupt, to yell, when Sephiroth’s eyes flashed up to hers. The intensity, the weight of that stare froze her, and before she could even try to rally, a sneer slithered across his lips. She watched as his arms tightened around Cloud possessively, as his fingertips dug in. She watched as Cloud’s hand tightened over Sephiroth’s where their fingers were interlaced. Sephiroth whispered something to Cloud, too quiet for Tifa to hear, but Cloud’s eyes focused in on her.

               There was something vapid in his eyes, an absence of thought that was outright eerie. He lifted his head from Sephiroth’s chest and tilted his head in wonder. The movement took Cloud’s ear further from Sephiroth but bared his throat more to the man, whose lips were inches from his skin. He turned his eyes from Tifa only briefly, to shake his hair from his face, tossing it over his shoulder, before he leaned down, lips right at Cloud’s ear again.

               She had meant to yell, to interrupt with force, but the sight robbed that from her. Instead, she hesitated, and said, “Cloud?”

               Cloud turned his head just slightly to Sephiroth, as if listening closer, but he continued staring at her.

               Child-Cloud tugged her hand insistent enough that she finally looked away and down at the boy.

               “ _Try_ ,” he demanded. Tifa blinked for a second before nodding and, when she looked up again, it was with purpose.

               “Sephiroth!”

               There was no reaction.

               “Sephiroth, leave him alone!”

               No reaction.

               She pursed her lips.

               “Cloud!”

               Still no reaction.

               “Cloud, it’s me, it’s Tifa,” she tried, a little gentler this time, and for a second, she saw a line (of confusion? of concern? of effort?) form between Cloud’s brow. “You don’t have to listen to him, Cloud.”

               It didn’t get any further reaction, but she could be as bull-headed as Cloud, when she wanted to be.

               “Cloud, you know he’s a liar,” she said, slowly making her way toward the pair. “He’s a snake and all he’s done is manipulate you. Every time, he just hurts you. He hurts everyone you care about. He makes _you_ hurt everyone you care about, and I’ve seen what that’s done to you. He’s trying to ruin you.”

               As she spoke, she saw his face change. The crease between his brows returned, and more than once, his eyes flickered back to their normal blue.

               She didn’t realize until she reached out to touch Cloud, that Sephiroth had been silent the entire time, watching her mutely.

               She pressed her hand over Cloud’s, where he held Sephiroth’s over his heart.

               She heard when Sephiroth spoke to him again.

               “Cloud,” he purred. “She’s trying to take you from me.”

               With that, Cloud’s eyes snapped back to green, anger carving into his face as he slapped her hand away.

               And then she woke up.

               When she did, it was to raised voices.

               She recognized the Highwind immediately and ran for the Operation Room, where the shouting was coming from.

               As she approached, she could hear them speak.

               “Cloud, you just woke up. You were dunked in the Lifestream _twice_. You shouldn’t even be out of bed!” Cid said.

               “I’m not arguing about this. Set the ship down and let me off,” Cloud demanded.

               “You’re in no condition for that!”

               “Listen, you said you want to go get the huge materia below Junon. We’re only a little past Fort Condor. You drop me off, I’ll head back to the Fort to recover.”

               “Bullshit. Cloud, you’ve got some plan in that spikey head of yours, we all know it. You’re not gonna go to the Fort. You wanna recover? Do it on the ship.”

               “How about you wait until Junon?” Nanaki asked. “You can get off the ship there if you want.”

               “You’re not leaving the ship!” Tifa declared, skidding into the doorway.

               Everyone turned to look at her but Cloud, who seemed to stiffen.

               She marched up to the blond, grabbed him by the shoulder, and turned him to face her. Whatever had been on his face when she first appeared was gone, replaced with annoyance.

               “Tifa, come on,” he said, as if she was the one being unreasonable.

               “Are you still in there, you asshole?” she said, leaning up toward Cloud, squinting as she looked over him for any hint of Sephiroth.

               “What are you _talking_ about?” he said, leaning away from her. She grabbed his chin to get a closer look and he slapped her hand away.

               “I saw him, in the Lifestream,” she said, unwilling to turn her eyes from Cloud’s. “Sephiroth. He was talking to Cloud and had his hands all over him and Cloud was listening to him.”

               Silence hung in the air as everyone turned to look at Cloud, who frowned at her.

               “Listen, Tifa, I remember what happened at the Northern Crater, but can you not talk like that? I didn’t mean to do it, you have to know that.”

               “No, I’m not talking about then, I’m talking about _in_ the Lifestream! It was like he was mind-controlling you again!”

               Cloud’s face shifted into something that was a mix of discomfort and shame.

               “The Lifestream can make you see things, Tifa. Whatever you saw, it was in your own head. Just—try not to think about me like that, okay?” he said, and Tifa immediately shifted back.

               Cloud had been in the Lifestream twice. He would know how it worked better than she would. Had it just been in her head? Just some sort of terrible nightmare? She cursed at herself internally as the guilt wound through her. She hadn’t meant to remind him of it, much less put it on him like that.

               “I—yeah. Sorry, Cloud. I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, and the guilt must have showed on her face, because when Cloud shrugged, he also gave a small, “what-can-you-do?” smile.

               “That’s okay, I can’t really blame you,” he said, casually self-deprecating, before turning to the group. “You guys are probably right. I’ll go back to my bunk and sleep or something.”

               He raised a hand in a quick goodbye, paused to put the hand comfortingly on Tifa’s shoulder, and left.

               Tifa was convinced that the whole event was a nightmare, amplified and made more real by the Lifestream.

               She remained convinced until it was painfully, painfully clear that she had been right the first time.

               Cloud said nothing about disembarking the rest of the ride to Junon. He was in his room a little more than usual, but that was at least half because if he was out and about for an extended period of time, one party member or another would send him back to his room to rest. Cloud accepted it with relative good humor, rolling his eyes and referring to whoever was shooing off as “mom” or “dad.”

               When they set the Highwind down outside Junon, the group moved into the city, right until they saw Cloud wasn’t.

               “You guys remember that plan you guessed I had, back in the airship? I’m gonna go handle it,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the green field behind him.

               “You, uh, wanna be a little more specific there?” Yuffie said, folding her arms over her chest.

               “Not really,” he said, and only sighed when it became clear that they were still waiting. “Look, it’ll be better if I go alone. I’ll probably even be back before you’re done in Junon.”

               “Okay, that still doesn’t explain why we should let you go out on a secret mission by yourself, with absolutely no backup,” Cid said.

               “Just trust me, okay, guys?”

               “Hell no,” Barret said, and the rest nodded, sharing the sentiment.

               Cloud ruffled his hair with an irritated sigh, thinking for a moment before saying, “You know what? Fine.”

               He then turned around and started walking away.

               “Cloud, come on,” Tifa said, grabbing his wrist as he passed, but he just yanked his hand away. She frowned and followed, snatching his wrist back and holding harder, but he still pulled away from her.

               “What the fuck, Cloud?” Cid called as Tifa tried for a third time, still with no success.

               “Stupid ass, spikey ass…” Barret grumbled as he stomped after Cloud. To put an end to the matter, he wrapped his arms around Cloud’s waist in a bear hug, pinning the blond’s arms to his sides, and lifted him up.

               “Barret,” Cloud said, sighing in exasperation.

               “What are we gonna do with him?” Barret called over his shoulder.

               “ _Barret_ ,” Cloud said, this time with warning in his tone.

               “Fuck if I know,” Cid said, scratching his head. “Knock him out, get him back on the ship, go from there?”

               “Sounds good,” Barret answered.

               “Let me go!” Cloud shouted.

               “Who wants to do the honors?” Barret called back to the group.

               In desperation, Cloud called, “ _Sephiroth!_ ”

               The group stilled.

               Each whispered some variation of “what,” some with more swearing than others.

               “Cloud?” Tifa asked, going toward him, while Barret side-eyed him.

               “Sephiroth, help!”

               There was another round of “what”s, but none were whispered this time.

               “He’s lost it,” Barret said. “Someone hit him over the head already!” He sounded warier now.

               “I’d suggest you don’t.”

               The entire group turned to look as Sephiroth approached. He had left a small crater when he jumped down from a building on the exterior of Junon were he had been watching, and was now approaching slowly.

               Barret looked over his shoulder, then quickly back at Cloud, who was staring back at Sephiroth with mako-green eyes, cat-slit pupils, and a love-struck smile.

               “ _What?_ ” he said, causing everyone to look back to the blond. The only one who didn’t look confused was Tifa, who looked horrified, her stomach sinking between her feet. She now knew, with dead certainty, that it was no Lifestream-nightmare.

               “Sephiroth!” Cloud called, all relief and warmth, softening now that he knew he would be rescued.

               “What is he _doing_ here?” Yuffie asked, readying her weapon for a fight.

               “I’m here to take back what’s rightly mine,” Sephiroth said—still walking calmly toward them, but now brandishing his sword.

               “… does he mean Cloud?” Cid asked, still looking around, unsure if this was a fight or not.

               “He definitely means Cloud,” Tifa said, pulling her gloves down and flexing her fingers before tightening them into fists.

               “There’s no need to fight,” Sephiroth said.

               “You’re coming toward us with a sword!” Yuffie snapped.

               “Put Cloud down, and you’ll see there’s no need to fight,” Sephiroth said, coming to a halt in front of them.

               They looked between themselves unsurely.

               After a shrug, Barret released Cloud, who immediately sighed in relief.

               No one was quite sure what to do as they watched Cloud approach Sephiroth. His eyes were the twin of Sephiroth’s, but they were softened, and a sweet smile was on his face. Tifa had been ready to demand a fight regardless of what Cloud said, but she hesitated.

               No one knew quite what to do with Cloud looking so in love.

               When he got closer, Sephiroth sheathed his sword and held out his hand, which Cloud took the second he was near enough. He paused in front of him, looking up at Sephiroth in adoration. When the man reached out with his spare hand, caressing Cloud’s face, the blond leaned into the touch, sighing happily as his eyes fluttered shut. The moment hung, Sephiroth cupping Cloud’s cheek until he shifted, pressing his thumb to Cloud’s lower lip. Both sets of green eyes were half-lidded, and Sephiroth’s kept slipping down to glance at Cloud’s mouth.

               “What the fuck,” Cid whispered.

               Sephiroth glanced up at the pilot before dropping his hand. Cloud stepped around to stand at Sephiroth’s side, as if he belonged there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The two, linked by their hands, stared back at AVALANCHE, waiting. Eventually, Sephiroth raised his eyebrows in expectation, in challenge. AVALANCHE looked between themselves, still unsure of what to do about it. They all looked to Tifa. She was the closest one to Cloud. She was the one who had tried to warn them about this.

               She tightened her fists, and then she dropped them.

               A look of triumph came over Sephiroth’s face as Tifa looked down at her toes in impotent fury. He tugged on Cloud’s hand and gestured with his head, and, with a glowing smile, the two turned away. They walked off into the field, Sephiroth’s arm slipping down and around Cloud’s waist, holding him close.

               They looked at each other in silence until Tifa turned and slammed her fist into the side of the Highwind. She repeated the motion, punching the ship again, and again, and again. Cid moved to protest, but Vincent put a restraining hand on his arm and shook his head quietly.

               By the time she was done, there was a large dent in the metal siding, and Cloud and Sephiroth had disappeared into the distance. She turned away from the ship with a dark look on her face and stormed through her friends, who were watching her pass, still and silent. Eventually, she turned back, all that anger that had nowhere to go on her face.

               “What the fuck are you waiting for?” she snapped. “We’ve got to go get that damn materia.”

               Without another word, she whirled back around and stomped toward Junon.

               AVALANCHE, with nothing else to do, followed her.


End file.
